


The Witness

by AMidnightDreary



Series: The Witness [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind Reading, also fluff I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 21:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13667301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: Belle isn't quite as non-magical as Rumplestiltskin thought. She can read minds, and an epiphany Rumple has leads to the revelation of her powers. He doesn't like them.





	The Witness

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo!  
> So, this idea just came over me. I planned it to be just a little OneShot, but suddenly there were 11 000 words. Oops.  
> Also I'm sorry in advance for any mistakes in word choice or grammar.  
> Have fun reading!

He was very loud again today.

The rumoring, swirling rush of emotions and thoughts had woken her up long before sunrise. Belle knew at an instant that she had an exhausting day to look forward to. She tried to ignore him, burying her head in the pillow he had given her months ago, but covering her ears didn't help. (It never did.) His mind was still there, lingering in the hem of her consciousness, and even though she didn't want to eavesdrop she couldn't stop herself from noticing a few things.

Apparently he had woken because of a nightmare again, only after a few hours of sleep. That hadn't left him exhausted like her, at least not in a physical way. His body didn't actually need sleep like hers did, and nightmares didn't really bother it.

His mind was a different thing.

It was always troubled. Loud and full and overwhelming. Belle knew perfectly what it was like to have nothing than chaos in ones head, and she didn't know how he managed to cope with that. Well, it explained his mad giggles and mood swings, that much was certain.

There were good days, of course. Calm days. Then he would sit at his spinning wheel, settling down at last. She liked listening to him when he did that. Feeling his gentle silence, however unsteady and fragile it might be, was soothing. His mind got clearer then, easier to follow. And most of the time she liked what he showed her. It had been only a few weeks since her arriving at his castle when he had told her that he liked having her around. Even though he hadn't known that he had been telling her anything, of course. But she could feel how he was coming to rest a little bit when they were in the same room. There always was so much confusion and reluctance in him when he thought about that. Some things she had picked up had scared her, even. A deep sadness was practically radiating from him, not just when he thought about her, and it was accompanied by a rather unhealthy amount of self loathing. She still tried to be near him as much as possible, enjoying his company more than she probably should despite his troubles and knowing that he did as well.

But there were also days like today. Days on which he was filled with darkness and anger and desperation. On those days, Belle felt like he was disappearing. Slipping away from her. She didn't like that feeling at all. She liked it when she knew that he was right there, staying with her, thinking about her eyes and her smile and wondering whether she liked lilies better than roses. (She didn't, and he had come to that conclusion as well.) He could be so kind, and she loved those moments when he showed that with words and actions, not just with thoughts and feelings. She probably wouldn't get one of those moments today, she presumed.

Belle stood up after a while, groaning slightly. She had to try to comfort him, at least a little bit. So she headed to the kitchen after she had washed and dressed. She made tea and then wondered if she should head to his chambers or just wait for him to appear, and decided doing the former in the end. His clamor got louder as she got nearer, becoming almost unbearable when she stood before the closed door. She knocked tentatively. He didn't open the door, but she had expected that. She felt his thoughts stopping for a moment, and then there was wonder and a lot of suspicion, but also a light joy he tried to stifle. That attempt wasn't really successful, which made her smile.

Belle left the tray with the tea set right before his door and headed to her own room again. Only when she had settled down with a book he made the decision to open the door, finding the tea she had left for him. His puzzlement made her chuckle. He took the tea hesitantly and thought about her whilst drinking out of the chipped cup, and it distracted him for a while. Belle was delighted about her success and dozed a bit before it was time to prepare breakfast.

She found the tea set she had used earlier in the kitchen, all clean and usable again. She listened to him absently while making breakfast. His presence (that was the word she liked to use, though it was hard to find an accurate description) was more serene now, somewhat less chaotic. Belle had feared that he would be mean today, but probably he would just be more quiet than usual.

That assumption had been true, so she noted when she stepped into the great dining room where they spent most of their time together. Rumplestiltskin sat at his wheel already, barely looking up when she entered the room. A wave of _him_ rolled over her in the brief second their eyes locked, causing her to clench her fingers around the tray she was holding. She felt as if she was drowning in his emotions, his thoughts filled with questions and words he'd probably never dare to say out loud.

“Good morning”, Belle chimed, trying to sound cheerful in spite of the grief that followed the almost charming way his presence greeted her every time he saw her.

His reply consisted of a fleeting nod and a suspicious look. His mind wandered back to the tea he had found before his door, and she braced herself for what was to come. She placed her tray on the table, beginning to make his usual place ready for him.

“You made tea”, Rumplestiltskin said without stopping his spinning.

“I do that every morning”, Belle replied whilst pouring tea in the chipped cup he liked so much.

“Usually not before sunrise”, he said. “You should have been sleeping.”

She didn't try to hide her smile from him. His words sounded scolding, but she felt the questions lingering in his thoughts. Had something happened? Had she been dreaming badly like himself? Or had he done anything wrong? _Of course he had, he -_

“I know, but I couldn't”, Belle said. “I made myself some tea and thought you might like some as well.”

“Wanted me to trip over that tray, dearie, didn't you?”, he murmured, causing her to chuckle.

“Right”, she said. “I even hid behind the curtains in the hall to see that.”

“It must have been quite a disappointment, then.”

“Oh, I wouldn't say”, Belle objected. “I did see you in your night clothes.”

He just snorted at that.

The brief rush of shock and embarrassment before he remembered that he opened the door properly clothed was endearing, though.

Belle had to go back to the kitchen twice before everything for breakfast was on the table, but even then Rumplestiltskin didn't move away from his spinning wheel. There were times when he didn't eat, because he didn't exactly _need_ to. He hadn't tried it, but he assumed he could survive without eating at least a few weeks. Not like Belle would let that happen, of course. He felt better and was kinder when he had a full stomach.

“Don't you want to eat something?”, Belle asked. “I made pancakes.”

Oh, she did know which buttons to press. The Dark One stood up and came over to her, decoyed by his lovely caretaker (his thoughts, not hers) and pancakes of all things. He meant to ask her if she would stay and eat with him but couldn't get the words out, like every morning. She stayed, like every morning.

The darkness returned as soon as he got used to her company. She didn't have another word for that _being_ in him. It was always there in the back of his mind, tugging at his thoughts, wanting to conquer them. It was even more present today than usual, and she hated it with every inch of her body and soul. She hated the way it talked to him, what it said about him. It seemed to consist of a hundred voices and was voiceless at the same time. The simple cruelty, the paranoia and the greed it always expressed frightened her. She didn't like to have them in her head, even if it was only second hand, but Rumplestiltskin seemed almost fond of them. He loved the darkness and the power that it granted him, and he hated the man he was because of it. He regretted the day he had taken that dagger, but he didn't want to let go of it ever again. He was so deeply afraid of being worthless, useless, powerless again. Yes, power seemed to be his most devastating addiction.

And there was his son. Even Belle had to admit that, without those powers he possessed, the chances to find his son again were humble, to say the least. His plan was tedious and complicated, and Belle didn't understand every part of it, but he had _seen_ that it would work. Belle didn't judge, since she knew what it was like to loose what you loved most. And Rumplestiltskin had lost so very much.

But, well, that didn't mean he couldn't be a better man. There was goodness in him, but he practically chose to ignore it, trying to bury it somewhere deep where it wouldn't endanger his plan.

“Will you stay at home for a few days?”, Belle asked, wanting to distract him from the whispering of his curse. He had just arrived yesterday from a deal he had made with some duke, and Belle had missed him during the time he had been away.

“I don't know why that would be any of my maid's business”, Rumplestiltskin said sharply without looking at her.

“Your maid is taking breakfast with you”, she reminded him.

“I didn't invite you to”, he countered.

Belle just hummed affirmatively and watched him for a moment. “So?”, she said then, causing him to sigh.

“I think I'll be here for a few days, yes”, he answered eventually.

“Good”, Belle smiled and wished she had the courage to tell him that she had missed him. “You didn't tell me yet about the deal you've made”, she noted instead, sipping her tea.

He shot her an unnerved glance, as always an expert in hiding his amusement. Belle waited patiently, knowing that he would give in in the end. And that he did.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything you want to tell me.”

He had to hide his smile.

It was always nice when he told her something she already knew pieces of. She had picked up fragments out of his thoughts, but they weren't always clear and _never_ chronological. Only when he answered her questions, rolling his eyes as if he didn't find her curiosity endearing, she could get the whole picture. It turned out that the Dark One was a good story teller with an intriguing even if sometimes very dark sense of humor. Belle loved listening to his voice, to the high pitched and scornful tone subsiding as he described far away lands and cultures.

They sat there until the teapot was empty and he shooed her away by listing the chores she had to do today. So Belle started to clear the table, smirking at him. He still had his cup, the chipped one he grew to like so much, and returned her smirk above the edge of the porcelain. His mood had become slightly better, but the darkness was still more present in his mind than on other days. He was thinking of his son again and of everything he lost and everything he was. He started brooding again. But it wasn't the first time that Belle noticed the lack of something that had been flooding through every fibre of his presence when she had seen him for the very first time – loneliness. The feeling was still there, returning when he thought he knew that she wasn't here because she liked to spend time with him. But it nevertheless faded when he talked to her, when his heart fluttered because of her smile and his usually so cold eyes got softer just because he looked at her. Those eyes followed her as she cleared the table, and just like that he was thinking about her again. Belle felt herself get nervous. She knew she shouldn't listen, but it wasn't like she could  _stop_ listening. She hadn't ever had much of a choice in that. And so she felt his reluctance and his helplessness, even his anger that he couldn't change what he was feeling. She listened as it dawned on him. The realization that what he was feeling wasn't just a fleeting fondness or attraction, but could be lo-

The silence in the hall was broken by the sound of plates shattering and the clattering of cutlery falling to the floor. The tray she had been holding had just slipped out of Belle's fingers. Even though his thoughts had been interrupted, Belle had understood perfectly.

And it wasn't like she hadn't known that before. She really had. But she had just witnessed him realizing it as well. Finally. Her hands were shaking slightly as she stared down at the mess she had accidentally made, remembering too late that he _couldn't know._ But she somehow couldn't recall how acting inconspicuously worked with that word he had thought, no, _felt,_ swirling in her head.

“Belle?”, Rumple asked, apparently not able to keep the worry out of his voice like he did usually.

“I'm sorry!”, she blurted out as she came to her senses again. She hurried to get on her knees in order to get rid of the mess. “I'm sorry, I just –”

Belle hissed as she grabbed one of the shards without thinking, causing the broken porcelain to cut her skin. She cursed under her breath but continued to get the shards on the tray, only stopping when she felt Rumplestiltskin coming closer. And suddenly he was crouching right next to her, looking at her with worry and confusion in his eyes. _Gods._

“Belle?”, he asked again, seemingly at loss for any other words than her name.

“I'm sorry”, she repeated. She didn't dare to look at him, fearing that he would see what was the matter as soon as their eyes would meet. “I – tripped.”

“You didn't”, he stated.

Belle started to blush, and he to frown. She tried to laugh it off, telling him that she was sorry for what felt like the tenth time, but he interrupted her by saying her name again. She looked at him at last, trying to hide what was happening in her head.

“It's no matter”, he told her. “It seems you have a habit of breaking tableware.”

Belle had to chuckle, looking down at the shattered pieces and shrugging. “Well, these are not just chipped. I'm -”

“It's fine”, he broke her off, a shadow of his usual feigned annoyance in his voice. “Stop apologizing. What frightened you?”

The question caught her off guard. “Nothing”, she stammered, staring at him with wide eyes. “I'm not frightened.”

“I'm not blind, dearie”, he said. “And I don't like it when people lie to me.”

“I'm not lying.”

“Of course not.” He glanced at her sarcastically before he happened to notice her small incised wound. “You hurt yourself.”

“It's nothing”, Belle hurried to say, inspecting the inside of her hand.

The cut wasn't that deep, but it bled anyways. She could feel him hesitating, but realized to late what he was up to. By the time she knew he had already reached out for her hand, the magic already tingling in his fingertips. Belle flinched immediately and gave him no chance to touch her skin.

Both his concern and the fondness towards her faded as soon as she backed away from him. His eyes got cold again, his mouth formed a thin line. His reached out fingers twotched slightly before he withdrew his hand.

“I see”, he said quietly.

He was angry and disappointed, scolding himself for believing she would let him touch her, and so deeply hurt. Belle couldn't breathe for a second because of the intensity of his pain, feeling it for a mere moment as if it was her own. Like she had so many times before. But she had never been the direct cause of his agony, and she couldn't stand that he thought she had rejected him. Rumplestiltskin wanted to stand up and disappear, deciding he would never talk to her again if she didn't -

“No!”, she exclaimed and grabbed the fabric of his shirt to hold him in place, taking care that she didn't touch his skin. “No, please, don't think that.”

“Think what?”, he shot back in anger, but didn't break away from her. Instead he just stared at her with his reptilian eyes, trying to hold back both his fear and fury.

“I'm not afraid of you”, she said softly, shaking her head and holding onto him tighter.

He didn't believe her. Of course he didn't – he had seen the fear in her eyes, and the most logical explanation was that he had caused it somehow. And how should he know better? The truth was indeed irrational and she had been hiding it well enough. But Belle couldn't keep that up any longer. She wanted him to know and to understand, and the only thing she could do was telling him and hoping that the fact that she had this weird access to his head wouldn't upset him too much. She was already sure that he wouldn't like it.

Oh, no, he wouldn't like that at all.

“I already told you that I don't like being lied to”, Rumplestiltskin snarled, grabbing her wrists – Belle thanked every god she knew that she had chosen a long sleeved dress this morning – to push her away.

“I'm not lying to you”, she repeated, stressing every single word. “I'm not afraid. And definitely not... disgusted. Or anything else you think.”

They were both kneeling by now, looking at each other with a comparable amount of stubbornness. Belle was holding up her hand to prevent the blood from smudging her dress. Rumplestiltskin didn't dare to think that she _wasn't_ lying, even though her tone and eyes seemed to speak the truth. But he didn't escape this admittedly risky situation, and that alone was a success.

“What was it then?”, he asked eventually, reluctance in his voice.

Belle sighed and lifted her shoulders. “I'm not... really good when it comes to, well - touches. From skin to skin.”

His frown deepened as he tried to understand what she meant. The first explanation he came up with enraged him, and Belle hurried to interfere his thoughts.

“I wasn't hurt in any way”, she said. “It's nothing like that, don't worry.”

He didn't answer. Instead he thought about her response to his reaction, wondering if his face had shown his dismay so obviously. He was aware that Belle knew him far too well, but there was something wrong here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on yet.

Belle had no idea how she should even start to resolve his incomprehension.

“Look, it's... difficult to explain”, she said, giving a slightly helpless laugh. “In fact, I've never really talked to anyone about it. I don't know where to start.”

He was confused. Variations of the most worrying explications for her unusual behaviour passed his mind, but the truth was not among them. Belle shifted anxiously, her fingers fidgeting.

“When I, uh, dropped the tray”, she said slowly, waiting for him to nod before she continued, “I wasn't frightened. Just... surprised. By something I heard.”

He wrinkled his nose in lack of understanding. “I didn't hear anything.”

“No, but you thought something, right?”

Rumplestiltskin blinked and stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “Don't play games, dearie. What are you trying to tell me?”

Belle came to the conclusion that bluntness might be the only way to make him understand, but she still hesitated to get the words out. What would he do when he knew? The fear that he would declare her as lunatic was probably quite implausible, since he was a magician who dealt with the most unbelievable things himself. But still, he wouldn't like having her intruding his mind. Maybe he would try to take her ability from her – well, if he wanted to do that, Belle would be the last one to protest.

“I think it's called emphatic telepathy”, she said eventually, but it sounded more like a question. “I found the term in a book in the library, and it fits quite well. But I'm not sure if it's the right one.”

Rumplestiltskin stayed silent for a while, but of course Belle could tell everything that was going on in his head. He had started to understand, but he wasn't sure what to make out of that information. He went through all the memories he had with her, trying to figure out if he had ever sensed some kind of magic within her. When he had seen her for the first time, in that room where her father had always held his councils, he had found her... ordinary. Unusually beautiful, yes, but overall ordinary. But there had been a few mildly unsettling occasions. The latest had just happened this very morning – the tray with tea before his door. Belle could hear her own words echoing in his head, and then he thought what if, _what if_ -

“You're telling me you're a mind reader”, Rumplestiltskin said finally, suspicion in his eyes.

Belle nodded slowly. “Yes, that's... one way to put it, I guess.”

He shook his head and snorted. “You certainly have a vivid imagination, dearie.”

“I'm not imagining anything”, Belle stated calmly.

He giggled, his demeanor impish as usual. He stood up sweepingly and looked down on her with a mocking expression on his face. “Well, dearie, if you _were_ a mind reader, or an _emphatic telepath_ if you like that term better, you would know everything that swirls and spins in everyone's head. I don't doubt that powers of that kind exist, but I'm certain that _you_ don't possess them.” He shook his head again, his curls bobbing slightly, and pointed at her with one of his clawed fingers.

“Because, if I did, I wouldn't have agreed to come with you”, Belle said. “I would have been too terrified and disgusted by what I would have seen in your mind. Right?”

His hands were frozen in the air, and for a split second the control over his features slipped away from him, shocked that she had _nailed_ his thoughts, before he pulled himself together again. “Well”, he said with a sneer. “That wasn't that hard to guess.”

Belle exhaled softly, knowing that there was only one way to convince him fully. “Ask me something.”

“What?”

“Ask me something”, she repeated. “If you don't want to believe me, ask me something only you know.”

Rumplestiltskin thought about it for a moment, pondering over the pros and cons before he made his decision. “Fine.”

He turned around abruptly and headed to the table, sitting down on the chair that was closest to Belle. There, he wondered what he should ask her. There were a few that came into consideration, but only if she could answer one of them there would be no doubt. And why shouldn't he participate in that little game of hers? He liked games, after all.

“So”, he said eventually, thinking his questions much clearer than Belle would have needed. “Go ahead, I await your answer.”

“Baelfire”, Belle said. “But you use to call him Bae.”

Rumplestiltskin didn't move. He didn't even blink, and Belle stayed kneeling where she was and looked at him. She flinched when a wave of panic rolled over him, quickly followed by distrust and, in the end, shame. He had always wanted to hide from her what a _creature_ he was, and now he couldn't bear the thought that she already knew, that she probably had known from the very start. The realization struck like a bolt. Belle could only imagine his chest and throat tightening. She wished she could do something, anything for him, but she knew that any soothing words would do no good. When he spoke eventually, his voice was as hoarse as she had never heard before.

“The whole time?”, he asked, his wide eyes trying to hide his dismay.

Belle nodded tentatively. “I'm sorry. I should have told you.”

Yes, she should have. He was angry because she hadn't. And then there was the darkness taking over for a moment, screaming that she knew about his plan. That she was even more of a danger than he had thought. And that it would be the best if he got rid of her immediately. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he buried it again, because he _couldn't_ harm her. But he couldn't let her go either. She knew too much, and if she told anyone _..._

“I'd never do that!”, Belle interrupted fiercely, trying not to drown in the overwhelming rush of his presence.

“Get out of my head”, he shot back, his voice sharp.

“I can't. I wish I could, but I can't _stop_. I'm sorry.” The words left her mouth in a haste, but they didn't do anything to dispel his anger. She kept talking anyway. “I'd never use it against you. I promise. You don't have to be afraid.”

That apparently hadn't been the right thing to say, because Rumplestiltskin disappeared.

He had fled from her and her weird power, and Belle had expected nothing else. She couldn't say where he was, his presence was only a muffled awareness somewhere in the back of her head. Belle was thankful for a moment, for silence wasn't something she could enjoy very often. But then she started to worry when and _if_ he'd come back. The latter was probably stupid, because she was sure he would return eventually. The real question was what he would do about that problem she had become as soon as he did. Maybe he'd find a solution that didn't involve her leaving him or manslaughter. Both were equally horrible prospects.

Belle sighed and started to bring the shattered dishware to the kitchen. Her hand ached, but she ignored the stinging pain. It was just a little cut, and she had far bigger problems. Her nervousness and fright increased as time went by. She had nothing else to do than brooding over what she had done, what she was still doing. She couldn't stand the thought that she might had ruined everything. They had come so far. Her usual chores weren't enough to distract her, but she knew better than to look for Rumplestiltskin. He didn't want her with him at the moment, probably needed time to handle the fact that she had access to his mind. Belle could imagine what a frightening thing that was.

He didn't show up for lunch. Or for the tea they usually shared in the afternoon. Belle sat alone in the big hall, fidgeting and worrying. She knew that he'd show up. She just didn't know when.

And he didn't give her any warning when he did.

She was in the kitchen, putting the unused tea set back in the cupboards when his presence dazzled her once more that day. She blinked, managing to prevent the saucers she was holding from dropping to the floor by clenching them. Rumplestiltskin wasn't just in his castle again, but right there in the same room with her. For a moment she didn't dare to meet his eyes.

“Did I startle you?”, he asked mockingly, and Belle frowned.

“You just materialize out of thin air”, she informed him pettily whilst storing the saucers away. “Of course you did.”

There was a beat, and Belle turned around to lean against the counter. He was standing right before her. Of course she could feel everything he tried to hide, but it didn't really help to calm her. She had never wanted to hurt him in any way, in fact that was the last thing she wanted. She wished he could see into her like she could into him. He should know what she saw in him and that she'd never do anything to betray him, but Belle doubted that she could make him fully understand. If she weren't such a coward, she wouldn't have backed when he had wanted to touch her earlier. She would have let him.

“Belle?”

His voice was rather soft again, not mocking like before. Belle let out a stifled sound and rubbed her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that had appeared uninvited. Rumplestiltskin was horrified at the sight of her crying, not having a single clue how to comfort her. He wanted to, anyway. That was what made it better.

She mumbled an apology he couldn't really understand because it was so smothered by her tears. He just stared at her while she wiped her face. Eventually she pressed the balls of her hands on her eyes in order to calm down. There was no need to frighten him even more, and her tears did scare him.

“I should have told you”, she repeated her words from earlier, still not looking at him. “I'm sorry.”

“I wouldn't have told me either”, he said hesitantly, his voice deeper than usual because of the missing impish demeanor.

It was only now that she realized that his anger had faded from him. He was cautious and wary, but not angry anymore. Breathing got easier again, and she dared to look him in the eyes. They were thoughtful and leery, but overall calm. He _had_ taken the whole day to calm down, after all.

“I didn't know what you'd do”, she said in a small voice. “And I didn't know how to tell you. I've never told anyone before.”

Rumplestiltskin just looked at her for a moment. A part of him was glad that she had told him after all, even though he still didn't like anything about this. His mind was too deep and his thoughts were racing too fast for her to understand everything, and she didn't try. He wasn't angry anymore, he wouldn't harm her – of course he wouldn't – and he didn't want to throw her out. That was all she needed to now for the moment. Everything was going to be fine.

“You will tell me everything about it”, he demanded, but his voice didn't sound commanding.

Belle nodded, wiping her tears once more before she followed him out of the kitchen. He wanted to go to the library, because he knew she felt comfortable there, and they didn't talk on the way. Belle didn't really know why he didn't bring them there with his magic, but his presence made the impression that he didn't want to frighten her. _And, please, no more tears._

In the library, they settled down in the corner where she was always reading, on the small sofa with the pile of pillows and blankets. There was enough distance between them, but he was still rather close. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought that she could touch the emotions that were coming off of him in waves. They had sat like this before, and his presence was familiar. And soothing, even though nobody would believe that, probably.

“Are you doing it now?”, he asked cautiously after some time. He didn't quite meet her eyes.

“All the time”, she said. “It doesn't stop.”

“Never?”, he frowned, and she shook her head. “Since when can you do it?”

Belle lifted her shoulders in lack of knowledge. “I think I've been born with it.”

A pensive hum came from him and he thought about her words for a moment. He crossed out a few things on his mental list of theories how she had gained her power. So, no curse, at least not during her life time, and no gift from an overeager fairy or something, probably no accident as well... He wondered if it might be in her genes.

“My father doesn't have it”, she answered his unspoken question. “And I don't know if my mother had.”

Rumplestiltskin glared at her, making her flinch slightly. “Sorry.”

He dismissed it with a sharp hand gesture. She didn't need her powers to see that he was uncomfortable. “How does it work?”, he asked.

Belle started to fiddle around with the skirt of her dress. “I don't know.”

“Usually those sorts of powers can be controlled”, he said, trying to sound factual. “Can you?”

“Only to some extent.”

“ _I_ can't look into your head, dearie”, he said, to her surprise gentle instead of harsh. “So please, explain your thoughts. I have to know how it works.”

There was something he wanted to do, she realized, but he didn't know yet if it was possible. She furrowed her brow, wondering if he hid his plan from her on purpose. She didn't even know if that – hiding things from her – was something people could do.

“I don't really know how it works”, Belle said slowly. “It just does. It's... natural.”

“Like an additional sense?”, he suggested.

She nodded, thankful. “Yes, sort of.”

“And what normal sense would you compare it to? Seeing?”

“It's not like your visions”, she said without thinking. He blinked, and before he could get into a panic because she knew about that as well, she continued talking. “No, it's not like seeing. Something between hearing and – I don't know. Just sensing.”

“And what is it you're _sensing_? Just thoughts?”

She shook her head but smiled faintly, thankful for his questions. He was guiding her through this, even though he wasn't aware that she needed guidance. He himself understood his powers, his magic perfectly, and he couldn't wrap his head around the idea that she had no idea what she was doing and how she was doing it.

“Not just thoughts”, Belle said. “Emotions, too. Everything that's not physical. Even though the transitions are blurry sometimes.”

Rumplestiltskin was still mortified, but there was curiosity as well. He had a soft spot for every sort of magic and power, after all. He tried to suppress the thought that she _could look into his mind_ , and he was doing it quite well until now.

“How is it like?”, he asked.

Belle worried her lower lip, thinking about that question. It was the most difficult thing to put into words. She had never really tried it before. She looked for a comparison, and the fact that they were in a library helped a bit.

“It's like reading”, she said, looking into his yet uncomprehending eyes. “Only that I have no control over when the pages are turned. I have to stay on whatever page it is you're currently on. I still can choose _how_ I'm reading, though. Whether I read every word or just scan the paragraphs.”

Rumplestiltskin thought about her explanation for a rather long moment. “So you can't search for something in other people's minds?”, he asked then. “You just get what they are thinking about at the very moment?”

Belle nodded and answered a question that he didn't quite dare to speak out loud. “I can't control your mind in any way, like rifling through your memories or something like that. I'm always just a witness.”

He was relieved, but only partially. There was still too much she knew.

“I don't even understand everything”, Belle added, hoping that would settle him a bit. “It's very... jumbled. Most of the time.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded slowly, taking his time to think before speaking again. “You really can't stop it?”

“Maybe there is a way, but I don't know how”, Belle said apologetically. “You can't stop hearing things just because you don't want to. That's practically the same thing.”

Suddenly there was another thought in his mind, something that replaced his other worries for a moment. He looked at her with a frown, trying to imagine what it was like for her. “That must be... exhausting.”

“It is”, she agreed with a light smile and a shrug. “But I'm used to it. You don't have to worry.”

His frown didn't disappear. He knew that his mind was a chaotic and _terrible_ place, and that no one, especially not her, deserved to have to cope with that. Except from himself, of course. Having to cope with his own cruel haggardness was exactly what he deserved.

“I disagree”, Belle remarked softly. He didn't immediately know what she was talking about. “Your mind isn't a terrible place.”

“You should know, right?”, he snarled, keeping himself from feeling guilty because of his harsh tone. “I've told you before, dearie, get out of my head.”

“And _I_ told you that I can't stop it”, she sighed. “More than once, actually.”

“I don't want you there”, he said, sounding more desperate than angry now. “I don't want you to know _anything_ about my mind.”

That was likely the most honest thing he had ever said to her. Belle's heart ached at his distress, and she moved closer to him. She wanted to touch him, but she wasn't sure what would happen if she did. They were both agitated right now, and it probably wasn't the right time to try touching.

“I know”, she said instead, her voice soft and, so she hoped, soothing. “I'm sorry. I never _mean_ to intrude.” She hesitated, worrying her lip again before she forced herself to be brave. “But you should know that I don't mind listening to you. I like it, actually.”

There was a wave of shock and anger coming off of him again, accompanied by a scornful and disbelieving sound he made. He thought she tried either to fool him or to – and he didn't know what he should make out of that – comfort him. By lying, of course.

“I'm not lying”, Belle said with a sigh. She had no idea how to put this into words, but he needed to know. She wanted him to know. “Your presence is the first and only one I really like.”

Something about her voice made him forget his suspicion for a moment. She tried to leave him and his mind alone, but it had never been more impossible. She still tried to distract herself from his thoughts by _trying_ to leave him alone.

“My presence?”, he asked slowly.

“That's my word for it”, she explained. “I'm lacking a better description.”

Rumplestiltskin looked at her, his reptilian eyes searching her face for more information. “I doubt that mine is likeable in any way”, he objected, sounding bitter and defiant at the same time.

Belle hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to hear about what she liked about his mind. Since he obviously and understandably didn't want to have her _in_ his mind in the first place. “You're really fascinating”, she said eventually. “And good.”

“Dearie, nothing about me is good. I am not.”

Belle shook his head. “If you weren't, your curse would have got the best of you already.”

He backed away abruptly. “What do you know about that?”, he demanded harshly.

“Not much”, Belle hurried to say truthfully. “Just very little about how you, uh... came at it. But more about what it's doing to you.”

“If you knew that you wouldn't call me _good_ ”, he snarled, playing with the idea to run away again. But he didn't do that yet, forcing himself to stay instead.

“You're fighting it constantly”, Belle reminded him gently. “I'm not denying that you did a lot of horrible things without regret, and I'm sure it changed the man you once were, but you're still trying. I've witnessed you trying. More than once. You're not fundamentally evil, Rumplestiltskin.”

He had barely listened to her words. Another realization had hit him hard, and now he was looking at her with wide eyes. “You're not just hearing me”, he stated after some time. “You can hear it as well.”

“Your curse? Yes”, she confirmed hesitantly. She tried a smile. “I'd say it's one of the few unpleasant things about hearing you.”

Suddenly he closed up to her again, sitting so close next to her that their thighs were almost touching. The sharp pain and his dismay had been replaced by mere consternation about the fact that his darkness had found its way into her mind.

“Does it affect you?”, he asked rapidly. “In any way?”

Belle wanted to take his hand. She wanted to let him curl up against her side and stroke his hair. She also wanted to curl up at _his_ side and have him stroke _her_ hair. The urge to touch was so insistent that Belle didn't know if it was hers or his.

“No”, she reassured him softly, but he wasn't convinced. He knew how powerful his curse was, and that its effects could come creeping and unnoticed. “It doesn't have any power over me”, Belle tried again. “The only thing it does to me is making me sad that it has power over _you._ ”

“Why does that make you sad?”, he asked hoarsely.

“You're hurting because of it”, Belle replied simply, not knowing what she could do about the confusion in his eyes. “I don't want you to hurt.”

That confused Rumplestiltskin even more. He stared at her for a few seconds. “I'm sorry”, he whispered then. He trusted that she knew what he was apologizing for, and that she did.

“You don't need to apologize for anything”, she said. “I already told you, I like listening to you.”

“Why?”, he asked, regretting the word as soon as it was out.

“It's soothing”, she told him, smiling. “Most of the time, at least. Especially when you're spinning.”

He thought that apparently she had lost her mind due to spending too much time in his, and somehow that made her laugh. He blinked at her in confusion, but she could feel the almost joyful flutter her laughter made appear somewhere in his stomach region.

“I don't know how to explain”, she said eventually. “It's just I... I like having you around. Your presence calms me. Knowing that you're there, it... It makes me feel safe.”

Gods, she had no idea what she was saying. She knew that her cheeks were reddening. Unable to look into his eyes any longer, she lowered her own to stare at her knees. There was blood on her dress. She had forgotten her little incision over everything else that had happened.

They spent a few minutes in silence. Belle tried to stop listening to his thoughts, because _gods_ he deserved some privacy in this moment, but she couldn't help it. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, and apparently he totally forgot that she knew those things already because his presence practically screamed them at her.

“You're not mad”, Belle stated quietly, still fidgeting with her dress.

Rumplestiltskin shook his head slowly. He wasn't mad indeed, but utterly uncomprehending of what she wanted him to know. He thought about her words which triggered even more questions. Belle gave him time, trying to be as patient as she could. She wanted to tell him everything. The words were already waiting in her head, positively sitting on the tip of her tongue, eager to be heard. She had never really talked to anyone about this, and it calmed her that he was the first - and probably the only one – who would really know.

“Why did you come with me?”, Rumplestiltskin suddenly asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Belle decided that – since she could basically read his mind – he deserved pure honesty. And so she smirked and shrugged lightly. “You gave me the chance I had awaited for, I don't know, _years_. I wanted to leave.”

“To exchange the royal life you led for this?” He twirled a raised finger to underline his last word, sneering a little.

“My father's kingdom is rather small”, Belle said. He quirked his eyebrow, but waited for her to continue. “And his castle isn't nearly as large as yours. But there were still hundreds of people around. Royals and servants, and so many people in the village around the castle.”

Suddenly understanding dawned on him. He still failed to imagine what it was like to have the thoughts of those hundreds of people constantly swirling in his head. “Ah”, he said. “I see.”

“I've gotten used to it”, Belle said, shrugging again. “But that doesn't mean it ever stopped being tiring.”

He understood, thinking that lonesomeness surely was something he could ensure. The next village was miles away from the Dark Castle and he barely had any visitors. Here, the only minds Belle had to deal with was her own and his.

Which led him to the next thing he didn't understand.

“But you must have known...” His voice trailed off, and he furrowed his brow in misunderstanding. “You must have seen what I was. What I am”, he concluded eventually, not looking at her.

“I did”, Belle said. There was no need to deny anything. “I saw that you could be cruel and insidious and wicked. And I saw that you were a deeply lonely man.”

He looked at her again, skepticism in his eyes. Belle remembered the moment their eyes locked for the first time. For a few seconds, the world around her had faded until his eyes were the only thing she could still see. They didn't reveal anything about the loneliness and despair he showed her, and Belle hadn't been able to breath for the time it took to get accustomed to the most overwhelming presence she had ever known.

Now, she tried to calm him with a smile.

“I knew that you didn't plan to hurt me. That you just wanted – well. Company. I didn't quite understand why you would deem me suitable, and I couldn't believe that you'd be genuinely nice to me. I just thought that going with you to clean your estate and give you the feeling that you weren't completely alone was the best solution for us all.”

Rumplestiltskin had listened carefully, and now his feelings were split. A part of him was amazed that she had somehow managed to overlook his cruelness and her fear just because it was “the best solution for them all”. Another voice in his head insisted that the fact that she had sensed his loneliness and his vulnerability was deeply disturbing. Nobody should know that he, the Dark One, most powerful sorcerer of this and every other realm, was _lonely_. Because loneliness wasn't a feeling monsters had.

Belle picked up that thought of his. “It calmed me, you know”; she said. “To know that you felt like that, I mean. That way I knew you were human.”

“I am not -”

“I didn't say that you were normal”, she interrupted him. “Or good. I just said that you were human. A man. Different from any other I've known all my life, but still a man.”

“I could have killed you”, he pointed out.

“You didn't.”

“I locked you in the dungeon.”

“Just for two weeks.” Belle smiled and leaned a bit over to him. She still wanted to touch him, but yet resisted that urge. “Rumple, it took me not longer than those two weeks to realize that I didn't have a reason to be afraid of you. And I've never been afraid of you again since then.”

“You know what I did”, he said, and thoughts and memories flashed through his mind, pictures of a heavy iron hammer, of the dagger and his son, and of so many people dying and suffering because of him. People whose names he couldn't even remember.

“I do”; Belle said. “And it does matter to me. But I'm still here.”

“You don't have much of a choice”, he replied sharply. “You promised me forever.”

“Yes, and I intend to keep my word.”

The soft determination in her voice took him by surprise. His eyes flickered as he tried to fathom what it meant. Belle just sat there, knowing that it would be good to say more, to be clear and unmistakable about what she was feeling, but that was easier to think than to actually do. Which was ridiculous, because she could be sure that he cared for her as well. She wasn't technically afraid of rejection – the first problem she would have to face would be his disbelief. She could feel it already, in every fibre of his presence. He didn't dare to believe that she wanted to stay with him not because of the deal they had made, but because of him. In the moment, Belle could just think of one way to make him belief, and she wasn't brave enough for that yet.

Belle cleared his throat and decided to change the way this conversation was going to something less dangerous.

“I need to know what you want me to do.”

“To do?”, he parroted blankly.

His usual impish demeanor, the mask he had created for the Dark One, had disappeared almost completely. The high pitched tone and admittedly crazy sounding way of speaking was gone, leaving his voice to be a little bit deeper and a lot softer. He sat next to her seeming almost like the man he had been long ago. Besides scales and claws and everything. Belle looked into his reptilian eyes which returned her gaze observantly, looking for hints to tell him what was going on in her mind.

“I can pretend like I don't know anything”, Belle said, even though that wasn't what she wanted. “And I wouldn't act upon anything I get to know. If you want that. Or if you want me to leave you alone completely, I'll do that. I -”

A flash of anger drowned her words. His rage showed clearly in his eyes and his mouth twitched, and Belle didn't need to take a closer look into his mind to know that he had misunderstood.

“Hoping I'd set you free because of this, are you?”, he snarled, and then shook his head. “No, no, dearie. You won't get out of our deal that easily.”

“Do you _ever_ listen?”, Belle shot back, trying to sound calm (and failing). “I told you that I intend to keep my promise. I don't want you to set me free. I'm asking you what _you_ want.”

Rumplestiltskin opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. His eyes were still blazing, but after some time he calmed down, at least a little bit.

“What I want”, he repeated, a scornful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Yes”, Belle confirmed. “I know that you hate to have me in your mind. And I'm sorry that I can't stop doing what I'm doing. But I – I don't know what to do. So I'm asking you how to deal with this.”

Rumplestiltskin's fingers were tapping on his thigh, and his thoughts were running so wild that she couldn't follow them. “You're leaving the decision to me?”, he asked.

Belle sighed. “I assume you know more about my, uh, powers than I do. And you are more uncomfortable with them than I am. I want to know what you think we should do.”

“Shouldn't you know that?”

“Your mind is a chaos right know, I suppose you are aware of that as well.”

Rumplestiltskin let out a slightly gruff hum. He thought about their possibilities. His curse still insisted on getting rid of her, but everything in him revolted against that. The thought of loosing her in any way was more than he could stand. Belle wanted to hug him, but grasped the fabric of her dress instead.

“I won't let you go”, Rumplestiltskin said eventually.

“Good”, Belle replied and couldn't keep from smiling.

“Pretending you don't know anything wouldn't do.”

Belle just nodded and listened to his presence while he tried to get his thoughts in order. He waved his hand in a seemingly absent gesture as he spoke again.

“I could work a spell. To barricade my mind from yours. But I think it would be more sufficient if you would learn how to control your powers.”

“Control them?”, Belle asked. “How?”

“It should be possible for you to choose when and on whom you use your skills”, he explained.

“I've tried”, she said. “It didn't work.”

“Because you clearly lacked the right teacher, dearie.”

He seemed sure that he could teach her, even if he didn't possess powers like hers himself. But he knew magic and so many ways it could work, and he was a seer after all. The difference between that and her mind reading couldn't be that grave, so he thought, since these powers were similar in their origin and way of working.

But as excited as Belle was over the prospect of controlling her powers, of twitching them on and off to her liking, there was something that worried her.

“But you couldn't be sure that I didn't use it on you”, she said slowly.

“No.”

“Would you mind?”

He kept quiet, and Belle sighed.

“Maybe the barrier would be the better idea.”

He thought that as well, but didn't say anything. Belle still didn't know what to do. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable just by being in the same room with him.

“We could just go on for a few days?”, she suggested eventually. “It's been very much today.”

He nodded, although he didn't seem too convinced. But he still tried to cope with the fact that she had those powers at all, so maybe it would be good to get used to that knowledge first before making a decision about how to deal with it. A part of him still lingered at the moment he had seen her the first time, because, really, he should have noticed. He didn't comprehend how he had thought of her as an ordinary woman without magic the whole time – but even now he didn't _feel_ that she could look into his head, regardless of his knowledge. That frightened him, because he would probably never know when she rifled through his thoughts. She had said that she was doing it the whole time, and it explained so much. The tea she had brought him before sunrise – probably to calm him after his nightmare that might have woken her up. And the incident with the dropped tray that had led to this revelation at all, she had probably been shocked because of -

Rumplestiltskin's thoughts stopped, just like his heart stopped beating for a brief second. Belle tried not to panic while he got more and more agitated, and she tried to leave him and his thoughts alone again, but of course that didn't work. Rumplestiltskin had forgotten everything about teaching and barriers, the only thought still in his head was the realization that she knew. That she had perhaps known longer than he himself had.

Belle's heart beat frantically. She stared at him, fighting the urge to grab his arm to prevent him from running away again. This was the time. The moment were she should smother his fear before it gained too much power on him, the moment were she should tell him what he had told her this morning after breakfast, even if he hadn't been aware that he had been telling her anything. And she just sat there, her mind blank, until she at least managed to say his name.

“Rumple?”

It took him a moment to react. He didn't look at her, his eyes fixed on a point on the floor without looking at anything.

“When you dropped the tray...”, he said, his voice hoarse.

“Yes”, Belle said meekly.

“You said you heard -”

“Yes.”

Rumplestiltskin wanted to stand up, but before Belle knew it she had her hands on him, fiercely grabbing his silken shirt to hold him in place.

“Please”, she said. “Please, stay.”

“Belle, I -”

“I feel the same.”

The words were out before she could hold them back. For a moment they just stared at each other. Belle couldn't even look through the wave of feelings that came off of him, it was too much and far too chaotic. She could feel the warmth of his body beneath her fingertips, even if she was just touching the fabric of his shirt instead of his skin. But before she could get distracted by that, Rumplestiltskin spoke again.

“You can't”, he said, barely audible. “You know so much. You couldn't...”

“I can”, Belle insisted, looking into his wide eyes as she felt determination rise again in herself. “And I do. I really do.”

“You don't know what you're saying”, Rumplestiltskin objected weakly.

Belle grabbed his arm firmer when he wanted to get away once more. When he sat still again she had already made her decision, because, yes, she needed to make him believe. She didn't grant herself enough time to change her mind.

“I can show you”, Belle offered. Rumplestiltskin's eyes locked with hers again, and she forced her grasp to get softer. “Please. Let me show you.”

He pulled away from her again, and this time she let it happen. Her fingers fidgeted again, but she let him have his distance. He just stared at her as if she was the most impossible thing he had ever seen. If Belle hadn't been as nervous as she was, she would have found that somehow endearing, but it simply alarmed her now. His presence was positively screaming. Belle gave her best to ignore it.

“Show me?”, Rumplestiltskin rasped eventually. She had never seen him so agitated before, but despite that he looked suspicious. As always.

Belle nodded, not knowing how she should put it into words. But that wasn't needed, because Rumplestiltskin understood anyway. His eyes lit up with curiosity for a split second before returning to their state of really-close-to-panicking.

“You can reverse it”, he said under his breath, declaring his comprehension. “You can make me read your mind.”

Belle nodded again, and then the words stumbled from her lips. “I can grant you some kind of look into it, yes. But I – I've never done it on purpose. And I can't control what's coming over, even though I think it's really just reversed, which means you would, uhm, read on the page I'm currently on. It could be -”

“How do you do it?”, Rumplestiltskin broke her off.

Belle blinked and realized that she had no idea. “I'm not sure. It just happened some times when I... touched somebody.”

“From skin to skin?”, he prompted hesitantly, remembering how she had backed away when he had tried to touch her earlier.

“Yes”, Belle said, relieved that he had understood so fast. “And that's why I didn't want you to... I mean, I just didn't want it to happen. You would have...”

“Freaked out”, he finished her sentence. “Yes.”

They stayed silent for a moment. Belle knew he wasn't sure if he wanted to do what she had suggested, because he feared what he would see. He feared rejection, even though some part of him wanted to believe that she wouldn't have suggested this at all when he would find nothing but rejection in her mind. Belle gave him time to think while she tried to get her own thoughts under her control again. She had never knowingly tried to share her thoughts with somebody like that, and she still wasn't sure if she wanted that to happen at all. But it seemed to her that Rumplestiltskin deserved this chance. It was just fair, because she had read his mind since the very beginning. Why shouldn't he read hers for a few minutes?

“How often did that happen?”, Rumplestiltskin asked suddenly.

“Not often”, Belle answered. “I always took care not to touch anybody directly. When it happened anyway, I always pretended I hadn't noticed anything. But it also isn't a necessary thing to happen – Gaston, for example...” Belle sighed and shrugged. “When he took my hand, _nothing_ happened.”

She had always known her former fiancé had been a bit dull. His mind had been a terribly boring place, even if sometimes very unnerving. But the mere disinterest her usually so curious powers had shown when Gaston had touched her had still been surprising. Even his presence in her head hadn't been louder than any time before.

“You think it will be different with me?”, Rumplestiltskin asked, seemingly not convinced.

“Yes”, Belle breathed. “Yes, I'm very sure it will be.”

“And you... you don't mind?”

Belle smiled again, knowing that he had already agreed. She shook her head. “No. No, I don't mind.”

And she really didn't, suddenly. If she had to choose somebody who she wanted to have in her thoughts, then her choice would be crystal clear. And if it helped to convince him that she returned his feelings, she would have granted him admission to her mind any time.

Rumplestiltskin nodded slowly, but didn't say anything. Belle was sure that he wouldn't take the first step, and so she moved a bit closer to him. His body tensed, but he stayed exactly where he was in spite of his nervousness. Belle's hand was slightly trembling as it converged to his. Before she touched his skin she looked up to him again. His eyes were fixed on her face instead of their hands, filled with fear he tried to suppress. Barely noticeable, he nodded.

It wasn't like Belle had imagined. She had thought it would be like that one time when she hugged her father as a child – so loud and charged with so many feelings that she had to struggle for air. Or like the moment Rumplestiltskin's presence took her breath away for the very first time. Just stronger and more exhausting, because touching him had to feel like the strike of a lightning bolt.

And it did, in some way. And she did struggle for air for a moment. (She couldn't say if the gasp she heard was hers or his.) But then his mind enveloped her like a soft cloak, tugging almost gently at her own. It was a bit like coming home, or how she felt when she wrapped herself in a blanket on the sofa in the library, making herself comfortable to read one of her favourite books. It also reminded her of how she had felt when he had caught her after she had fallen from the ladder. Now, his thoughts and feelings were everywhere, but they didn't block out her own. Instead they caused a wave of affection and – and that was what he needed to feel – love coming over her. And even though there was so much sadness and pain in him, even though his curse was somewhere there as well, his presence seemed so much calmer than any time before. Belle didn't know whether that was because he was so distracted in the moment – she could feel the echo of what _she_ was showing _him_ in his mind. She couldn't say what he saw and felt, but she could feel his reaction all too well. He reacted with wonder and confusion, a lot of _that is not possible_ , but he couldn't help but believe what he was shown. And he was glad and relieved despite himself. He was happy, and Belle wondered if she would ever be able to stop touching him.

When the first wave of whatever it exactly was their contact had caused subsided, Belle realized that she had closed up on him even more. Also his other hand was on top of hers suddenly, and they were both staring at their entwined fingers by now. Rumplestiltskin was still overwhelmed, trying to get used to having her so unbelievably close. Belle was faster, more experienced in this way of feeling, and so she had time to enjoy the way his hands were holding hers. His skin was different than hers, of course, more rigid and slightly rough. But his touch was warm and tender and Belle didn't want to let go of his hands ever again. The question how his skin might feel had lingered in her mind since the beginning, and she had waited so long to uncover this mystery.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Rumplestiltskin was baffled, and it really was quite endearing. Belle herself felt all her worries slowly dripping off of her. Because everything was going to be alright. Because Rumplestiltskin cared for her – it shouldn't be so hard to think the word _love_ when you felt in every fibre of your body, she thought – and he believed that she cared for him as well. Even if he didn't understand how she had ever come to do so.

Rumplestiltskin looked up to meet her eyes again, and then he offered one of his crooked smiles. Belle returned it gladly. His eyes lingered on her face for a moment before he lowered his gaze again. His thumb started to draw circles on the back of her hand.

“Believe me now?”, Belle asked rather hoarsely, just because she wanted to hear his voice.

He nodded slowly without averting his eyes from their hands. “Oh, yes.”

“I'm glad”, she said. Then she pulled her hand out of his gentle clutch. The last feeling to reach her over their bond was disappointment. As soon as their connection was cut, everything returned back to normal. Which they both regretted immediately.

After a while, Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat. That didn't keep his voice from sounding a little shaky. “May I ask since when...”

“I had the epiphany you had this morning a few weeks ago.”

“The ladder incident”, he said, a question in his voice. “You thought about it when – earlier.”

“Yes, indeed.” Belle tried to stifle a shaky laugh. “I was glad you just touched my dress.”

Rumplestiltskin nodded, thinking about what would have happened if he had touched her skin back then. “I would have dropped you after all, probably.”

“Probably”, Belle agreed, laughing again. He chuckled as well, and for a few minutes neither of them knew what to say. In just a few hours everything had changed to something that was entirely new for both of them. Yesterday she wouldn't even have imagined something like this to happen so fast, but now she was glad. Simply, utterly glad.

“I won't create that barrier”, Rumple announced after a while.

“Oh?”, Belle said.

She almost couldn't bring herself to care. He wanted her to learn to control her powers – well, she would, with his help. If he decided to build that barrier, she wouldn't mind either. He didn't push her away, nor did he plan to ever to that. That was the only thing that really mattered in the moment.

“I won't”, he said again.

“Good”, she replied, smiling.

And then there was silence again. It could have been awkward, and it probably was. Belle thought that would cease in a few days. Even if it took weeks or months it would be alright. She was sure that they had time.

It was Rumplestiltskin who broke the silence again eventually. “May I -”

She had offered him her hand to heal the cut in her skin before he could finish his sentence.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'd love to hear what you think.  
> 


End file.
